"𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐥 al juramento de omertá," the men spoke simultaneously as the smell of gunpowder penetrated the air. Two heavily tattooed, bulky men made their way to the front, picking up the ankles of the now-dead man and dragging him across the concrete floor, the blood from the hole in his head leaving a trail behind.
"Qué sigue, jefé?" The man in the front stuck his Glock back in his pants pocket, wiping the splattered blood off of his jaw. He turned, cracking his neck as he turned to face the men.
"Distribuye la cocaína a todos los puntos base, vende tanta como puedas. Gana un puto dinero," he said as the men dispersed, loading up medium-sized brown packages into duffel bags and onto trucks.
"Yo, Connie, how are we gonna distribute all that?" Marco Bott, one of the runners asked as Connie finished wiping the splattered blood off his face.
"Make sure there are dealers at all the tienditas, ones that stay on their P's and Q's, no mistakes, entiendo?" Marco nodded, and before he could say another word, Connie's phone began to ring.
He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the contact, the diamonds in his grill sparkling under the light as Connie slightly smiled.
"Gimme a second," he said, walking out and heading to the bathroom, answering the phone and putting it on speaker, setting it on the sink.
"Qué pasa, mama, what's goin' on?" He asked, beginning to roll a blunt as he leaned against the wall.
"Hey, nothin' just wanted to hear your voice, I guess," you mumbled. Connie raised his eyebrow, sealing his blunt.
"I don't like that voice, mama. You don't sound like the usual," he said as you sighed through the phone, sniffing a little.
"Just...thinkin' about my dad again...and also in between filming season 4 of the show and preparing for shows...plus, I'm feeling kind of uneasy, sick, I don't know," you said.
"You want me to pick you up later? Or come over?" He asked.
"Con, it's supposed to rain today," Connie scoffed as he sparked his blunt.
"So? Why not? Rain or snow, I'm gonna find a way to you," he said as you chuckled slightly.
"Okay, just let me know when to get ready, and also what to wear," you said as Connie chuckled, dabbing a paper towel under the faucet and wiping the tiny specks of blood off his face in the mirror.
